Slip Out While He's Busy

Lois Lane gave one last look at Jimmy Olsen. The redhead was bobbing, lips pushing against the gloryhole as he sought to take all of the dick in his mouth. All of his world narrowed down to the dick her was sucking. She silently wished him luck, and slipped noiselessly out of the stall.

Still a little ****, the reporter took exaggerated care in walking swiftly and straightly out the bathroom, past the line of Jimmy's customers. She avoided eye contact, and to her surprise everyone kept their hands to themselves. Then she was back out in the club, the heat and the noise and the movement, the smell of beer and whiskey, perfume and sweat.

Except this time, Lois had a goal.

Her eyes locked in on the dark rectangle of the stairwell leading down. Wended her way through the twisting bodies, licking her lips, a part of her wanting one more drink and another part of her knowing she had to keep her mind clear. Every instinct told her she was on to something, that this was it. All she had to do was go down stairs, past the black door, pay the toll...whatever that was...and find out what this "Cult of Blaze" was all about.

The stairway smelled more like a bathroom than the toilets had, and Lois Lane's nose rankled at the smell of stale piss and vomit, the discarded condoms and accumulated trash...but the middle of the stairs were clear, and using her smartphone as a light, she descended into the darkness...and found, to her surprise, that the smell and the trash ceased entirely past the first landing, and the rest of the stairwell was suspiciously clean.

The stairwell ended at the opening to a dark corridor. There was graffiti on the walls...or what Lois took to be graffiti. Yet it swiftly became apparent that it was more than that. Stark black lines spray painted against the bare concrete formed a complex, interlinked, highly detailed mural. A red female figure, demonic in countenance, formed the only splash of color...and Lois followed the story as well as she could as she stepped down the corridor, barely daring to breathe.

The horned figure appeared to show a woman how to suck cock. The woman brought other women, who all learned the art of fellatio under the crimson figure's guidance. The next part was a confused fantasy...spurting cocks, strange couplings, the red figure on a throne watching ecstatic orgies. One of the women offered her a chalice brimming with seed...

...and the mural stopped at a solid rectangle of dark metal that seemed to drink in the light.

The Black Door.

"Time to pay the toll," Lois whispered to herself.